The adventures of the Inquisitorial Task Force 448
by Magic Medic
Summary: A loose collection of stories about the infamous Inquisitorial Task Force 448, protectors of the Imperium. Rated M for excessive violence. (It's 40k, what do you expect anyway?)
1. Introduction

_In the grim darkness of the far future, there's only war and bitterness. Except for the Task Force 448, that is. This elitist bunch of misfits from all over the Imperium is one of the most infamous regiments that the Inquisition has to offer. Feared by enemies and friends alike, they will get the job done, no matter what it takes._

 _This won't be a full story with a coherent narrative, more like a collection of loose connected short stories, telling the story of this glorious regiment after Colonel Jackson was assigned to lead them._

 _Enjoy and feel free to leave a Review or two!_

The adventures of Colonel Jackson and the Inquisitorial Task Force 448

Dramatis Personae:

Task Force 448:

Lieutenant Colonel Francis Jackson, Commander of Task Force 448

Inquisitor Isabel Dupont, Ordo Haereticus

First Bannerman James „The Wolf" Howler

First Pioneer Scott „Blow-it-up" McFinnigan, Explosives expert

Lieutenant Pjotr „Death-from above" Schuchev, Commander of the airborne company

Corporal Lucius „Prophet" White, Sniper

„Doc" Jeffrey Halligan, Medical officier


	2. Bastion Omega

Imperial Date 687.885.M41, Personal Journal of Lieutenant Colonel Francis Jackson, Commander of the 67th Harakoni Warhawks

Where do I start? I was basically born to be soldier in the guard, or „Astra Militarum", as the officials call it nowadays. Everyone on Harakoni is, similar to Cadia, just with the difference, that the Harakoni Warhawks are actually capable of achieving something. Until last week.

My regiment was shot down while still boarding the Valkyries. The damned heretics used some foul psionic sorcery to catch us by surprise. I'm still seeing the horrifying massacre that followed in my dreams. „Maim, kill, burn! Main, kill, burn!" they chanted cheerfully while murdering my men in the most brutal fashion you could possibly imagine. I tried my best to lead as many men to safety as i could, and even succeded... partially. 6.000 Men managed to escape, but 30.000 others didn't. Because there were no Astartes nearby that could assist the imperial efforts to retake the world, the Inquisition declared Exterminatus and bombed a once prospering world into a big pile of cinder.

However, the commanding Inquisitor, Isabel Dupont, somehow found out, what i did down there. I expected to be executed immediatly for abandoning my position, but instead i got a promotion... sort of. Instead, i was withdrawn from service in the Imperial Guard and sent to Britannia IV, where i shall take the command of one of the inquisitorial Stormtrooper regiments, namely the Task Force 448. I'm looking forward to meet my new men. Jackson out.

Britannia IV was a desolate world, one of many where the Inquisition held a constant

garrison. Officially, the world was exterminated centuries ago, so no one would come by to look if there is something of worth. And even if someone found the base, the men inside of it would take care of whoever being foolish enough to go there. The sight of the dark citadel made Jackson sigh in relief. The flight has been exhausting and he didn't really want to work for any longer today. _I'd kill for a good Amasec and some fried Bitterpotatoes,_ he thought to himself. The Inquisitor was stepping up to him.

Her name was Isabel Dupont, a gorgeous looking, slim woman with eyes looking like they were made of ice and curly black hair. Jackson always shuddered a bit when she looked at him, what, at least in his opinion, fortunately didn't happen very often. He did respect her though. The Inquisition was, for the most part, dominated by men and it took much courage for a woman to rise in the ranks of such an misogynist organisation. „Excited to meet your new men?" she asked with her surprisingly deep voice.

„Not really actually. Just another hundereds of good men i'll send to an honorable death for the emperor, the Imperium and all that stuff. All i want is a good Amasec and a bed where i can stretch out my legs."

„We all appreciate what the Guardsmen do. The work of protecting the Imperium will never end though. I've chosen you for the lead of the Task Force because i saw you commanding a hopeless last stand. The heretics paid a high price for every inch of ground they took. I admire such courage."

„What happened to my predecessor?" Jackson asked, curious about the past of his new Regiment.

„He died."

„Of course he died. But how did he die?"

„He died of pneumonia at the honorable age of 137 years, serving the Emperor. Colonel Winter was a good man."

„Wait, he died of senility?"

„Sometimes even the Tech-Prists can't patch you up anymore. And maybe you can reach this age too. You're a servant of the Inquisition now, and the Inquisition rewards those who prove themselves worthy serving it."

„Well, if i'm serving the Inquisition now, who do i report to? Segmentum Command?"

„You will report to me, and only to me. No one, not even a chapter master of the Astartes can give you orders anymore. Disobeying the call of the Inquisition is heresy and thereby punished. But let's not talk about details just for now, there's plenty of time left for that. We have arrived."

The Valkyrie landed on a platform overwatching a large hangar bay with all sorts of aircraft inside. Every vehicle was painted in black with dark red stripes on the wings and the emblem of the Inquisition, a stylized „I" with three bars crossing it the middle. Dupont and Jackson stepped out of the Valkyrie and moved on, to a big steel gate, also with the Inquisition emblem on it. A monitor was on the right side of the entrance. Dupont typed in a code on the keypad below it, what caused the gate to open with a deafening creak.

„I welcome you, Lieutanant Colonel Francis Jackson of the Inquisitorial Task Force 448, to Bastion Omega, your new home."

Jackson couldn't stop being amazed. This must've been the largest building he has ever seen. Even bigger than the great Manufactorum on Harakoni. The ceiling was so high that he couldn't see it, even if he tried to. A long hallway, decorated with monuments of Inquisitors, Saints and other heroes of the Imperium layed before him. The higher floors were open to the hallway, in whose center stood a high statue of the Emperor himself. Speakers all over the building constantly repeated verses of imperial propaganda in a monotone female voice: „The Emperor favors hard work." „An ill body is still better than a corrupted soul." „Who serves the Inquisition, serves the Imperium."

Dupont raised her voice again: „Speechless, Colonel?" she asked.

„This place is amazing. I've never seen anything like this before." he answered reverently. Dupont chuckled, what made Jackson angry. „What's so funny?"

„You've obviously never been on Terra, don't you?"

„I don't really care about Terra. It has always been too far away for me. There were wars to be won." he answered.

„Believe me, Colonel, Bastion Omega is nothing against Terra's glory. The bastion itself is a very old relic, dating on M12, but it probably is even older. Most of the people you see here, are just little officials, serving the Inquisition as administrators. The barracks are deep underground. This is where i will take you."

She pointed at a little train, reminding Jackson of the underground trains in the Macropoles of Harakoni.

„Bastion Omega is too big to allow us to simply walk down to the barracks. It would take days."

Jackson went inside, took a (very uncomfortable) seat and rode the train down into the innards of Bastion Omega.


End file.
